Prose and Cons: A study of Writer's Block
by Legionnaire24601
Summary: "I'm assigning you to someone else." Miss. Go looked from Lurman's manuscript, to the pen in her hand and back to him. "Who?" she asked skeptically. "Drew Lipsky." Shea blinked for the minute trying to place the name before she realized who they were talking about. Aw come on! (In which Mr. Lipsky is an author with writers block and Miss. Go is his reluctant editor)
1. Chapter 1

_Kim panted as she ran down the dark corridors of the Lorwardian ship. Her breath plumed blue in front of her in the flickering lights. A chill slithered up her spine for the temperature was falling rapidly and she realized, to her horror, that the ships life support system had been destroyed or purposely shut off. She had to get off this ship. Kim rounded the corner and skidded to a halt. Heart pounding brutally against her chest. Lt. Possible gave a sharp inhale._

_There standing in the dark, briefly illuminated by death spasms of the failing lights stood…_

_There stood…_

_There stood…_

There stood…who?

Nothing. No one. No one came to mind. The shadowed figure remained a blank fixture in his mind's eye. As indescribable as it had been for the last few years.

"Shit," Drew Lipsky gave a frustrated sigh and frowned at the blinking text cursor of the word document. It was mocking him, had been mocking him for the last two? or was it three? years.

"_It's been eight years." _Kim supplied helpfully from somewhere in the back of his mind. "_Going on to nine now."_

"Thank you," Drew muttered sarcastically under his breath and angrily slammed his laptop shut. Why was it that in his head his characters wouldn't shut up? But when he tried to get them to act on paper they were as silent as the grave?

_Just crazy I guess._

"Shut up." Lipsky growled running his hand roughly through his hair and rising from his desk. The late afternoon sun filtered the window, tinting the objects in his studio a light gold. The lovely color only served to darken his mood. Grumbling to himself Drew paced aimlessly throughout his apartment forcing himself to stretch his legs.

Seven years?

_Eight._

Drew shook his head, trying dislodge Lt. Possible's judgemental tone from his thoughts. Had it really been eight years since he'd last had published something? This sort of thing used to be easy. In the beginning, the ideas and the stories had come and flowed easily. But very few people had been interested in reading them. Then the idea for what eventually would become _Mists of Solaris_ drifted through his consciousness.

At first _Solaris_ had started as a nagging piece of imagery that refused to leave. Then Lt. Kim Possible had wandered in, half formed but already demonstrating a multitude of talents that were only tempered by inexperience and the fact that the galaxy had not yet taken the time to properly knock her down. Then she had started talking and, frustratingly, hadn't stopped talking since. After avoiding the inevitable for about a month Drew finally sat down and wrote… and wrote… and wrote. _Solaris_ was completed in under a year, record time for him and after twenty or so rejection letters, it was, to his surprise, picked up by J. Hench Publishing Company.

_Mists of Solaris _had been a hit and Drew Lipsky had been riding high for a while. People wanted a sequel. But with the success came the difficulties. Descriptions of alien worlds soon became cliche, Possible refused to move on past realizing the ship's life support was ended and she laughed at his attempts to get her to move forward. His editor Hank Perkins took on more promising projects and only contacted Lipsky to scold him, and soon Drew hit a block. No, not hit, more like, smashed head first into a concrete barricade. The initial excitement the public had dwindled over time. And now on the rare occasions that Drew went ahead and researched his own name, the first three things that came up were, _Mists of Solaris,_ _One Hit Wonders that No one remembers, _and _Ten famous Authors that don't actually write. _

"Aaaarrrrghhhhhh!." Screamed the goat ringtone from his phone, vibrating violently from his desk, drawing Drew back from his thoughts. He stopped pacing and turned, frowning. Hank Perkins had sent him another text.

Wonder why?

_You missed a deadline. _

Only by three months.

_Not to mention the last three deadlines you missed._

He could see Possible smirk in the pale blue light of the darkened Lorwardian corridor.

_That makes eight years, going on …_

"Nine." Drew groaned out loud, Perkins was always sending him an email or a text. But whenever Lipsky tried to set up a meeting or even a call Perkins frustratingly refuse.

Stomping back over to the desk and picked up the phone. He stared dumbfounded at the message. It was short for one thing. Hank Perkins was usually talkative, far too talkative. His suggestions often turning into unhelpful tangents that had Drew focusing on minute, trivial details instead of actually dealing with the bigger picture. Hank Perkins often liked sending messages that were so long they would be better suited for emails. Today however he was more direct. Brief and direct. Hank Perkins simply wrote.

"I quit."

* * *

J. Hench Convention Center stood tall and proud against the edge of Go City's skyline. A great high rise tower of shining steel and bright windows. The Hench Publishing Co lay on the fiftieth floor on the west side of the building and had a brilliant view of the rest of the city below.

Or at least Shea Go assumed the view was brilliant. The only view she had from her office was the magnificent back of Vic LeChamps aging, balding head through the office door.

Although right now she'd prefer Vic's greying crown over the ridiculously expensive black Brioni suit that Malakai MacUmber liked to wear. His hazel, almost gold, eyes bore into her uncomfortably as he leaned, arms crossed across his chest, against the door frame.

"You really had to slap Lurman across the face with his own manuscript?"

"Mal, If you had to read _Lucretive Frugal tips and other cost-effective habits_ for the fifth time only to realize, that, once again he ignored your edits and suggestions." Shea waved her hand through the empty air in front of her, " You'd have slapped him too."

"Sure Shea," MacUmber's smile did not reach his eyes and he uncrossed his arms to brush back his dark auburn hair with a pale hand. "Doesn't change the fact that HR is having a nervous breakdown over whether or not he's gonna sue."

_Should have been hit him twice when you had the opportunity. _Shea thought to herself. Outloud she scoffed.

"He doesn't 'have enough money to cover his bases in case of a failed venture,'" and she tapped the manuscript in question with her finger, "Chapter Six."

"Still, the higher ups have decided that you'll have to play nice for a while."

Biting back her annoyance Go rolled her eyes. Grabbing her red pen from it's station she angrily crossed out _Lucretive _on the title and scrawled over the top of it, _Lucrative,_ followed by, _Idiot._

"I take it they left you to decide what that entails." She didn't bother to look up at MacUmber when he stepped into her office.

"Yes, so I've been thinking-"

"-How nice for you."

Mal cocked his head to the side in a manner that reminded Shea of a crow eyeing something shiny but his eyes had iced over.

"Careful," Malakai said coldly, "I like you but be careful."

_What am I a new hire? _Shea leaned back and stared right back. "Really? Gonna try that with me?"

Mal gave her a brief, tight smile.

"Worth a shot," He shrugged and inhaled sharply, "Against HR's suggestion, I'm assigning you to someone else."

Miss. Go looked from Lurman's manuscript, to the pen in her hand and back to him.

"Who?" she asked skeptically.

"Drew Lipsky."

Shea blinked for the minute trying to place the name before she realized who they were talking about.

_Aw come on!_

She slammed the pen on her desk, "Ugh that one hit nerd linger? Are you kidding me?"

"Shea."

"No."

"Shea."

" ." Shea launched herself from her chair and slammed her hands against the top of her desk. The force of which caused her pen to roll off the edge.

"Hank Perkins quit for a reason."

Malakai did nothing but continue to watch her bored.

"I hate Science fiction."

Reaching down to pick up her pen Malakai's hazel eyes flew up to her face and narrowed. "Not this again."

Go glared and leaned forward. "Sci-Fi is nothing but Technobabble, and lousy physics. It's boring, pretentious, repetitive and...and..." Shea angrily blinked up at the ceiling. She was running out of adjectives. "I hate Sci-fi... get someone who actually likes the genre."

"Shea," MacUmber said, gently interrupting her. He rose forward and pointed to his own pale, emotionless, face, "Do I look like I care?"

She flipped him the bird and Malakai smirked. Humming to himself he placed her pen on her desk before adjusting the lapels of his ridiculously expensive suit.

"I quit."

"Cute. I don't care how you do it, Miss. Go. Just get Lipsky to finish on time."


	2. Chapter 2

This chapter is dedicated to Benjimators with Love, for listening to my late night rambles.

Special thanks to: Light Shadow and Weirdness- I Hope you enjoy this as much as my Trollhunters works. GeraniumRyka154- A drink long awaited, I hope it satisfies. And Invader Johnny- Thank you so much for commenting! I appreciate it!

* * *

The late afternoon sun glittered softly against the towering skyscrapers of Go City. Not that Drew noticed, as he tried as best as he could to get through the 3 o'clock downtown traffic. But he wasn't making any headway with that obnoxious Green Corvette that rumbled in front of him. Gritting his teeth and clenching and unclenching his hands against the steering wheel. He checked his watch.

3:01

The Traffic light turned Green and still the Corvette stayed in place.

3:02

"_First time meeting your new editor and you're Gonna be late." Lt. Possible chirped, looking up from polishing her blaster from her helmsman seat._

"Thanks," Drew growled aloud, flicking his head in a vain attempt to dislodge her voice from his head.

3:03

Frustrated, Drew reached and rolled his window down before sticking his head out to yell. " HEY STUPID HEAD MOVE IT!"

A pale, manicured hand drifted out the green car window, curled into a fist and the drivers middle finger flipped up.

"_Do you even know where the restaurant is?" _

"Don't you have a villain to fight?"

"_I would… if you bothered to come up with one."_

"They won't let me see them."

"_And that's my fault?" Kim asked, tossing the cleaners cloth over her shoulder._

Up ahead the Corvette finally moved and Drew hit the gas on his mother's 66' Rambler.

"_Bueno Nacho...Think they serve Kosher?" Another voice broke into his consciousness and _Lipsky hissed in irritation as he took a turn at the light._, _"Where have you been Probable? I haven't heard you in years."

"_Been here, been there."_

"For eight years?"

"_I'm here now what do you want from me?" The blonde's dorkish features shimmered in the back of his mind for a minute before solidifying._

Annoyed Drew switched back the conversation, "Kosher?"

_"What?"The blond shrugged. He smiled at Possible as he moved to sit on the StarShip Solaris' navigator console, "I'm Jewish."_

"Since when?"

"_Since now. Best remember it."_

Sighing, Lipsky drove down the street looking for a place to park.

* * *

The restaurant was packed. Too noisy, filled to the brim with too many people. Shea was mentally kicking herself for agreeing to this moron's request. Beside her MacUmber looked far too pleased with the situation in which they found themselves.

"You know...as far as Bueno Nacho's go this one isn't half bad." Malakai nodded to himself as the server, some bespeckled teen named Ned, took them to their booth. Go winced as the leather seats creaked loudly when they sat down.

"Can I get you something?" The brown haired server asked in a loud high pitched voice.

"We're not staying." Shea mumbled and tied to hand back the menu to the server.

"Yes we are staying." Malakai reached over and tugged the menu from her.

"Smells like grease and cheap cheese." Shea turned to glare at him."Why here? Why couldn't we meet somewhere else?"

"Are you going to order?" Ned fiddled with his glasses.

MacUmber pursed his lips and raised his laminated menu close to his face. "This place is closest to Lipsky's old college...he had a seminar or a hazing... something. I stopped listening. Hmm… what to order…"

Go frowned. "He's late."

"I think I'll get the burrito al pastor." MacUmber told Ned.

"He's late," Shea repeated, "and no he's not, you're wearing white."

"Um… are you ordering or not?"

"Traffic remember? And you're no fun." Malakai smiled, his gold eyes flashing. "I do what I want. I'm getting that burrito."

"One al pastor burrito coming up...i think." Ned sighed and calmly walked away from them.

"He's late."

"You know, repeating yourself isn't going to change that."

Shea stamped down the flare of irritation that went through her and turned to glare at him.

"He's la-"

"-look there he is." MacUmber grinned and waved over at the entrance of the restaurant.

Pale, with shadowed eyes that showed he was in much need of sleep, Disheveled dark hair and wearing an ill fitting suit, Drew Lipsky staggered past the server and moved towards their booth. Shea's frown deepened as she recognized the man.

The nerd flashed an awkward smile and raised his hand as he approached. "Hi, I'm Drew Lipsky."

"Malakai MacUmber." Her boss rose to greet him.

The nerd turned to her.

"And you must be…"

"Stupid Head." Shea said tonelessly, watching with some satisfaction as Lipsky's dark eyes widened.

Drew let his hand drop. "I… I… oh...sorry."

"Aaaaand we are off to a great start." MacUmber snickered.

"I'm really sorry…"

"I heard you."

"I'm sorry."

"Did you bring the Manuscript?"

"If I had known…"

"Stop."

Lipsky's jaw snapped shut.

"Did you bring the Manuscript? Or not?"

"Yes." He said fumbling within his coat to pull out a rolled up stack of papers held together by a rubber band. "Here it is."

Reluctantly, Shea rolled out the manuscript and slowly started shifting through it.

_Kim panted as she ran down the dark corridors of the Lorwardian ship. Her breath plumed blue in front of her in the flickering lights. A chill slithered up her spine for the temperature was falling rapidly and she realized, to her horror, that the ships life support system had been destroyed or purposely shut off. She had to get off this ship. Kim rounded the corner and skidded to a halt. Heart pounding brutally against her chest. Lt. Possible gave a sharp inhale._

_ There standing in the dark, briefly illuminated by death spasms of the failing lights stood…_

Shea blinked, frowning she turned another page, and another, and another. Slapping the manuscript down on the table she looked up to glare at Lipsky who flinched and choked on his water at the sudden movement.

* * *

It was while taking a sip of water that Lipsky decided to take a good look at his editor as she read. Dark Hair, pale skin, green, green eyes.

"_Oh noooo! she's hot! Kim cackled_, just as Miss. Go slapped the manuscript down and looked up to glare at him

Drew choked on his water.

"This is only three hundred pages."

He swallowed, "Yes."

"Most of them are blank."

Something dark was brewing behind those green eyes and Drew wanted nothing more than for the earth to open up and swallow him whole.

"yes." He murmured

"Where… is the rest of it?" Miss. Go asked.

"...that's… that it."

Go inhaled sharply.

"Oh boy," MacUmber muttered under his breath.

Lipsky looked between the two of them and felt the blood drain from his face.

"_She looks maaad_."_Ron said from the ship's control room. _

"You've had eight years." Shea started slowly. " Eight years to get this book out and," She flipped through the manuscript quickly, "only three hundred pages to show for it."

_I_ _like her._ Kim whispered. _You would. _Drew sneered back in his head.

"Most of which …" Shea spread out the papers across the table. Drew tried not to flinch back and failed. Shea smiled mirthlessly at him."Are blank!"

Her words had gone up in volume and Shea practically screamed the last word. the restaurant had gone silent with the exception of MacUmber chewing away at his food. A dollop of guacamole dripped from the end of his burrito and plopped loudly onto one of the sheets of paper.

Lipsky licked his lips nervously, his gaze flicking back and forth between the green of the avocado and the enraged emerald of his new editors eyes and said nothing. He watched as the other man blinked, tuned over the soiled page with one hand and content to find it blank, proceeded to wipe his mouth with it.

"299 pages… now." Malakai mumbled before looking up and catching Drew's gaze."Sorry."

"Not going to say anything?" Go's voice called his attention back."Do you have any idea how this looks?"

"I'm starting to." Lipsky ventured quietly, shrinking back when the Editor's green eyes flared. If looks could kill Drew was certain he'd be ash by now.

"MacUmber, I cannot work with this man."

Malakai looked up to the ceiling with a frustrated sigh. He took the last bite of his food and spread his hands against the table top.

"Look," He swallowed "I get it. You don't want to work with him. He doesn't want to work with you. Frankly, I don't care about what either of you want, as such, let me make this perfectly clear," MacUmber drew his lips back and slid his tongue over his teeth before giving them both a large, fake, white smile.

"The higher up's hath spaketh thus, if thou cannot release a completed manuscript before the passing of the year thy art both thoroughly fucked." Malakai sighed contentedly, "Get it?"

Drew and Shea shared a look before sighing in unison.

"Got it."

"Good."


End file.
